


Move On

by conceptofzero



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:18:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2459669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptofzero/pseuds/conceptofzero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of the game, Snowman considers starting over again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Move On

There is a moment when Snowman nearly takes the rings for herself. The others have murdered the false Jack and they’re standing there bickering over what to do with the rings, and it occurs to her that she could take them so easily. None here except Slick and the Felt are aware of how quick she can be or that she can teleport to the rings in a heartbeat. 

She could build a new Derse. It would be easy with those powers. There’s no need for her to kill the children here or play at war with them. Let them set off to do as they wish, and she will carve herself a new kingdom in this session or in whatever exile that exists beyond those portals. A new Derse, where she will rule forever and no one will ever threaten her people again. 

Even now, she can see it in her minds eye. They would destroy all remainders of the troll’s rule, wipe away their messy handiwork and install her own clockwork bureaucracy. Prospitians need not be shunned now that the war is done. They are all alike, all the same, and they can make a new world in the ruins of the old. She will treat Dersite and Prospitian equal and show them both mercy and justice equally. 

There will need to be a new archagent. Crowbar perhaps. Maybe he will be tired of running that gang and long to have power over people who obey his every order. They could make a good pairing. He would delegate his work properly and she could trust him to do right by her, by all of her kingdom. How handsome he would look in a uniform. How wonderful it would be to have an archagent she could trust again.

Slick could keep the rest of the Felt, so long as he understood that any attempt to dethrone her would end with his death. There was room for him and his new gang, somewhere in her empire. Perhaps on some separate planet or tributary where he could put a crown on himself if he wished or continue to play gangster. She would let him believe he had power of some sort and then ensure that he did not even look at hers and lust for it. The Felt would keep him too busy to even think of overthrowing her. 

Snowman imagines herself wearing a proper crown again. Though she may like her hat, she would not miss it. Her coat could remain, she likes the coat, but she would wear her uniform beneath and once again sit on a throne. Two rings on her right hand, one on her ring finger, one on her index. She would miss the left arm a little and the ability to zip up her own dresses and cut her own meals, but when she is Queen, she will have servants to do all of those for her. 

The children squabble, trying to decide what to do. Destroy them, they say, before someone else can wear them. They look to Slick, who stands off to the side, too far away to grab the rings. They look to this session’s White Queen, her uniform stained with blood, those black eyes cooly regarding them. They look to the woman who removed the ring voluntarily and threw it down on the floor the moment her Jack was dead, and she will not turn her head away from the small Dersite in front of her. No one looks at Snowman. Not a single one of these mewing creatures recognizes that those rings are hers and no one else’s. 

New Derse would be magnificent. Dersite and Prospitian would work together, shoulder to shoulder as they built a better kingdom. She would have wings and she could fly anywhere she wanted, but even more than that, she could teleport great distances and ensure that her Kingdom was safe. Any who tried to withstand her would fall and beg mercy once they saw how deadly she was in combat. The sword through her chest would be sharp enough to slice the world in two, and she would be faster than any could possibly imagine. 

It would be so easy to take the rings. It would feel so right to wear them on her hand. 

Turning away from them is the hardest thing Snowman ever does. The very next thing she does is easy though; she approaches Slick and hits him hard, knocking him down on the floor. While he curses, she removes the voodoo doll and Lord English’s staff from Slick, which is a fairly simple thing to do once she puts a foot on his neck and holds him still. A few of the Felt look to Crowbar for instructions and he motions for them to wait and see what will happen next. 

Snowman tucks the voodoo doll away in her jacket and leans on the staff, rather liking the weight of it. It’s not a ring, it’s not even two rings, but she supposes it will do. “Felt, you’re with me. Slick, get your own gang.” 

“You heard her boys,” Crowbar says and while there’s not exactly a deafening cheer from them, they seem somewhat relieved. Slick thrashes and Snowman takes a foot off his neck. 

She half expects Ms Paint to run to his aid, but it seems she’s figured him out by now, and she instead approaches Snowman, offering her a hand. “Good luck. We’ll be coming for you.” 

It’s enough to make Snowman laugh. Ms Paint doesn’t even reach her waist and she’s about as threatening as a child, and yet, she’s by far the most novel person to join Slick’s cause in years. Snowman takes her hand, shaking it gently. “We always have luck on our side. You may need to find some of your own.” 

“We don’t need luck. We’re tenacious.” Ms Paint has a sweet and bright voice and her eyes shine. She helps Slick up then and leads him across the room, to where the other carapacians stand. Snowman doubts the Prospitian will help, not with the way she savagely attacked her Jack, but the White Queen may. She looks to her real rival and finds herself eagerly hoping she joins Slick. 

“Come on,” she says to the Felt, “Let’s find a new base.” 

The children finally crush the rings but she no longer cares. New Derse wouldn’t have been the same anyway. If something fails once, you don’t try to recapture it - you move on.

Snowman moves on.


End file.
